Chapter 5 The back waves of the Yangtze River push forward, and the son is better than Laozi.
"Peng'er looks at you." Liang Yuanxia ordered Liang Pengfei, and went straight to find a chair to sit down. He picked up a big cigarette bag and smoked. Liang Pengfei couldn't help swallowing his saliva. The familiar smell of smoke. Thinking of the Chinese and the little pandas in later generations, Liang Pengfei felt that his throat was itchy.
"Gentlemen, which of you is the leader?" Putting aside his distracting thoughts, Liang Pengfei's mouth was fluent in English. The translator who came forward to translate for Liang Pengfei almost bit his tongue and stared at Liang Pengfei, as if he had heard the news that the yellow-faced woman with whistling teeth in her home could steal people.
Liang Yuanxia's mouth was wide open and didn't close for a long time. Even Lu Yuan, who had a poker face, looked surprised, and the musket in his hand almost wiped off.
On the contrary, Monk Chen shook his head and looked at the young master with an admiring face. The young master is really capable, and his words are really smooth. Bai Shusheng, who was slightly confused with some Yiwen, touched the sparse rat's beard on his lips and sighed like this.
"I, I'm the captain of the Condon, Sir George Comley. How can you treat a nobleman like this?" The Englishman, who was hung on the bulkhead, shouted hoarsely and looked at Liang Pengfei. Seeing this guy's awkward appearance, Liang Pengfei almost laughed out loud. His eyes were as black as Chinese national treasures.
"Oh? British aristocracy? Liang Pengfei grinned, British nobleman? He really knew a few. At the beginning, he had dealings with many British salesmen and continued the British paparazzi. They told themselves a lot of secret stories about the British aristocracy. Many nobles looked like a gentleman during the day, and dressed themselves up like hell at night. Poison, fuck each other's assholes.
Imperial capitalism is worthy of the poison of human beings, and socialism is better. Liang Pengfei thought maliciously.
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"We really shouldn't treat a nobleman, a bald man like this, put him down and give him a sip." Liang Pengfei's eyes were full of pity, like a priest who wanted to confess to the dying patient. And the interpreter has now stood beside Liang's official, translating Liang Pengfei's dialogue with the British for Liang Yuanxia, who is not very proficient in foreign languages.
Soon, Captain George, who had no ability to resist and seemed to have broken two ribs, was tied to a chair by a bald man. After filling a bowl of water, he seemed to regain a little energy and nodded to Liang Pengfei with a blue eye: "Your Excellency, are willing to promise us to do this? The conditions?" There was a trace of relaxation and joy in the tone.
However, Liang Pengfei did not let him do what he wanted. Liang Pengfei shook his head and went straight to find a stool to sit opposite Captain George: "No, no, no, you will be wrong. Dear Captain, I like honest people. Unfortunately, you didn't tell the truth, so I can't do your conditions. Promise."
Captain George breathed slightly and his eyes flashed: "I never thought that the Qing Dynasty people could speak English so well. Sir, you are the first one."
"I'm sorry, I don't have much time. Don't talk nonsense with me. Tell me what's the purpose of your stay in this area for three days."
"Sir, as I said, we are just a bunch of pirates." George, who was tied to the chair, still said stiffly. Liang Pengfei smiled angrily: "Very good, dear Sir, do you know that there is an old saying in China that if you don't see the coffin, you won't lose your eyes." Liang Pengfei's eyes were like a poisonous snake spitting red letters, which made George shiver. Sir, don't you want money? Three thousand gold coins, this is a lot of wealth.
"I heard that your Western operas are very famous, and there are some special singers. The voice is so loud that the soprano is ashamed, right?" The smile on Liang Pengfei's face looked like a wolf grandmother with a tail.
"I think you're talking about a castester. It's amazing. I didn't expect you to know opera?" Captain George, who had a broken look and had a pair of panda eyes, was very surprised. He is willing to continue to delay with Liang Pengfei, and it is better to win the favor of this Chinese pirate who is familiar with Western culture, so that he can save his life.
"Ha ha, yes, I don't know if you are interested in forming a huge casteous singer opera troupe?" Liang Pengfei laughed, and the bad taste in his heart seemed to have found a vent.
After Liang Yuanxia heard the cold sweat on her forehead and stammered to translate the dialogue between the two, she couldn't help but be happy. She stroked the thick beard and raised her thumb at Liang Pengfei: "What a creative, I really haven't seen the Xiyi eunuch."
Those British men all turned pale and looked like a group of chickens who were about to be disembowelled.
"Devil, you can't do this. We are soldiers of the British Empire." Captain George screamed as if someone had a musket in the ass.
"Oh..." Liang Pengfei deliberately pulled up his voice. Are you soldiers of the British Empire? Tut-t-t-tt, captain, didn't you say you were pirates just now? How can you become a soldier in a blink of an eye? Dishonest people must be punished.
Liang Pengfei turned around and gave Monk Chen a look. Monk Chen smiled simple and strode into the crowd to dragging out an Englishman to another cabin. The man struggled desperately and cursed and even cried. Monk Chen still had a smile on his face, as if he was about to do something for his child. The kind father who cut the chicken.
Unqualified kung fu, the curses and crying inside paused in an instant, followed by a shrill scream like a wolf howling, and then there was no breath. Monk Chen came out as if nothing had happened. Although there were not too many expressions on his face, the new blood stains on his face made him extremely ferocious. Ferocious.
"From now on, every time I ask you a question, if your answer makes me think you are lying, then one of your companions will join the newly created casteous singer opera troupe. What are you doing here?" Liang Pengfei, who had been used to this kind of scene in his previous life, looked as hard as iron, and his voice was as cold as the mysterious ice in the depths of the Antarctic.
"You will definitely go to hell." Sir George Commley cursed with incomparable resentment.
"Answer wrong, iron pillar." Liang Pengfei tilted his head, and Monk Chen walked towards the British who were crowded together, like a butcher who walked into a pigsty to select fat pigs.
"You can't do this." Sir George Commley screamed and kept struggling. Don't worry. There are more than 20 people here. You still have a lot of opportunities. I promise to let you enter the hatch in the end. Liang Pengfei had a smile on his face and calmly waited for another cabin to scream again.
"The back waves of the Yangtze River push forward, and my son is better than me." Liang Yuanxia wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and was quite gratified. These were the descendants of the Liang family, a little stronger than himself.
"Dear Sir, in fact, I'm a soft-hearted person. If you can be honest, maybe a glass of red wine and a plate of steak is the way of conversation for the nobles. Unfortunately, you let me down.
Hearing the translation of the recitation translation, Liang's official was very comforted: "It's worthy of my son. He has even learned the ability to be a father's stick and a handful of sweet dates. It's promising." When Lu Yuan heard Liang Yuanxia's words, he rolled his eyes wildly. You two were all the way, and the head of the family was too shameless.
"I said, I'll tell you everything, you devil." Sir George Commley cried with tears on his face. The devil only deserves to lick my instep. Liang Pengfei sniffed and felt that he was very much like the leader of the Anti-colonial Resistance Army.
Soon, the news he said made the people present gasp.
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